Third Tuesday
by Likeasunburn
Summary: And you think you're uncomfortable around that time of the month? Try being Bella. Oneshot, written for a laugh


**Disclaimer:** Twilight and all its lovely characters belong to the amazing Stephenie Meyer… I own nothing but a computer and far too much free time on my hands.

**Author's Note:** This is a total humor-intended, in no way serious, one-shot based on a question my friend asked me after reading Twilight. My first Twilight story, so please be kind… or at least smirk:o)

**Third Tuesday**

Today had just started out as "one of those days." One of those days where from the moment that coherent thought had the nerve to make its annoying presence known (being ripped away from a dream involving Edward, a glass of lemonade, a private, white-sanded beach, and little else… of importance anyway,) Bella pretty much knew it was all going down hill from there.

In the two weeks since school let out for summer vacation, Charlie's newly acquired habit of "checking on" his daughter before he left out in the mornings, while good intentioned, was not exactly on Bella's Top-10 favorites list of his traits. Most mornings she was able to raise her head for long enough to mumble out something loosely resembling "I'm fine, Dad. Bye," before falling face-first back into the pillow for a couple of hours of post-6:15 A.M. sleep. This morning however, the mixture of his greeting and the deafening thunder rolling outside her bedroom window made returning to sleep a complete impossibility.

Mid morning found Bella in a considerably irritable mood, curled up in a quilt, on the sofa, with a book of short stories that her mother had sent back from the hospital in Phoenix with her. She'd since decided, her parents' worry and sympathy, if at times an annoyance, had managed to increase her at-home reading selection. Talk about really searching hard for a silver lining.

"Bella!"

Bella had no idea that she'd managed to doze off on the couch, until the hurricane force of Edward's near-simultaneous frantic screaming of her name and freezing hands on either side of her face jerked her mind to the present time and place.

"Bella, what happened? Where are you hurt? Bella, can you hear me? Open your eyes!" Edward's eyes were wide with utter panic as he knelt in front of the couch, looking even more white than usual. He was hurriedly looking over her face and arms, his hands reaching back to trace over the well-healed scars on the back of her head and neck. "Are you all right?"

She shook her head slightly, to clear the drowsy haze from her mind. Startled beyond belief by his sudden appearance and onslaught. "What?" she finally managed, her forehead wrinkling in confusion.

"The blood, Bella," Edward replied impatiently, still clearly in a panicked state. He'd gently pulled her to her unsteady feet in a flash, supporting her weight while continuing to look her over for the source of her injury. "I smelled it from outside the door," he explained frowning, not seeing any obvious sources right offhand. But this was Bella, there was no limit to she might have done to herself this time.

It was her turn to frown, as Bella herself glanced down to look quickly at her hands and feet, confused. "I'm fine," she told him scowling deeply. She wasn't hurt anywhere to the best of her knowledge. "Are you sure your nose isn't having an off-day? Edward, cut it out! I'm fine!" She repeated herself after he began checking the soles of her feet for glass. "Edward!" she yelped out, falling backwards onto the sofa once more.

Edward's face was troubled. He knew what his senses telling him and they were telling him that she was bleeding somewhere. The scent of her blood, fresh blood no less, had nearly knocked him down before he'd even entered the house. He had no idea what he'd expected to find as he busted the lock on the Charlie's front door, not wasting time bothering the key. This made no sense. Could she be internally injured? She **looked** normal enough. Was he losing his mind?

Their two person scowl-off continued for a full minute until, all at once, Bella felt her stomach twist into a pretzel as the horrific realization set in. "Third Tuesday of the month," she moaned, pulling the quilt over her head. She could feel her face turning the color of your average Passion Pink Barbie Dream Car as boiling waves of humiliation raced through every vein in her body.

"Third Tuesday?" Edward repeated, in no way following her. He reached over to pull the blanket from covering Bella's head. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. Her words and odd behavior made even less sense to him than the baffling, absolutely unnerving scent that still hovered so thickly around her.

Equal parts embarrassment, frustration, revulsion, and plain old crabbiness made Bella's glare in his direction particularly angry looking. "Think about it, Edward." She said each of the words as slowly and pointedly as possible. She watched for a moment as his disturbingly perfect face remained creased, lined with his obvious lack of understanding. "And you've lived how long?" she snapped. "It's that time of the month."

"That time-" he stopped short of repeating the entire phrase. Which was probably a good thing, because although he was already dead, his girlfriend might have killed him had he finished the thought aloud. "Oh," Edward finally replied blankly, taking an unconscious step back. "Ohhh." He repeated the word as, finally, the full realization dawned on him. This was… unexpected. A sad thought really, considering that his mentor was a doctor and he himself had attended a number of years in various medical schools.

Bella said nothing as she watched his apparent discomfort deepen as he searched for something to say.

"Well, that is natural," he mumbled, shifting his weight from leg to leg nervously. How could he not have thought about this before? He heard her snort irritably from her position on the sofa. He couldn't remember that last time he'd felt **more** like a bumbling, uncomfortable teenage boy. He took a deep breath, regretting it instantly. The omnipresent scent seemed to press in at him from every direction. How long did these things last again? "I guess that we should have discussed this particular," Edward fumbled for the correct word momentarily, "…predicament," he finally finished. He dared a look up at her.

Bella had her dark brown eyes squinted tightly closed. 'This conversation isn't happening… this isn't happening… this can't be happening!' cycled through her mind over and over. She'd forgotten all about her cycle being due in the flurry of all of the recent traumas and dramas she'd found herself up in. And she'd thought that Charlie ending up with one of her bras in his sock drawer was bad…

"So you'll be…menstruating for approximately three to five days, then?"

Bella made a noise of pure, strangled agony and pulled the blanket back over her head. "Please don't use that word," she begged, her voice muffled from beneath the quilt.

"So I guess I'll see you on Saturday, then?"

That did it. Bella removed the quilt from her head at once. "What…?" she asked slowly. He couldn't be serious. "Do you mean to tell me, that I'm not going to be able to see you whenever I'm on the ra- err, on my period? At all? Every month?" she complained loudly, her voice raising a full octave by the time the question was completed.

"Don't be silly," Edward said in what he hoped would be a soothing manner. "If you were to truly need something, then of course. We'll obviously have to see each other some but being alone together during your… time," he faltered over the word he wanted to use, "isn't a good idea, Bella. It would leave me constantly distracted, on edge, and at the very least, I'd keep thinking you were injured. It's best if I keep my distance until you are… finished." He rushed out, hoping that his answer sounded rational. Delicate and with social grace were out of the question, given the subject matter at hand… rational would have to do. She wasn't answering… Bad sign. Very bad sign. Her eyes looked glassy, hot tears beginning to pool up within them. Mad tears again. "Bella," Edward said softly, apologetic now. He made his way to slowly sit down beside her on the couch, a feat that took some slow breathing and jaw clenching due to her current physical state. But she shrugged away from his arm as he tried to wrap it around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

"Just one more thing that it's within your power to fix," she said, pouting. Her meaning was, as usual, headed in one direction. Seeing his eyes cloud quickly from gold to a duller brown, his usual reaction to such comments, Bella rose quickly from the sofa. "I'm going to go take a shower, Edward. I'll see you on Saturday." she griped, heading for the stairs in a huff without looking back at him again. Bella stomped up each stair as loudly as possible grumbling under her breath the entire way.

Edward was left open mouthed and flabbergasted on the sofa. He'd heard of mood swings, but sheesh… Human men handled this **every** month? "Wonder if I should have mentioned Charlie's door…?"


End file.
